Tudgeman, the Eruption
by Slightly Obsessed
Summary: LMG cannot even get in to see the R rated Versuvius the Eruption, but Larry Tudgeman has seen it 12 times, and it has only served to enhance his already rich fantasy life. The Rated Aargh! episode from a unique perspective. Just for fun. COMPLETE


_I wasn't planning on writing any more Lizzie McGuire fanfiction, but the other day I was reading over some comments I had gotten on "A Rock Hard Place," where several readers said I did a good job with "alternate scenes" and "episode revisions," and urged me to write more like this. So, it's summer, right? School's out. What else have I got to do?_

_I chose as my inspiration the episode "Rated Aargh!," in which the gang goes to see the R rated movie __Vesuvius the Eruption, but instead of following our heroes, I tell the story from the perspective of a fringe character in the episode, Larry Tudgeman. This may be a different Tudgeman than you are used to seeing on the show, but I don't think it takes a major leap of faith to believe that he could be the delusional and oversexed boy in this story. Tell me what you think._

_-_

**Tudgeman: The Eruption**

First, there was the green chick on _Star Trek_. Remember her? Oh, yeah…I remember her very…_very_ well. I remember what she did to my little body, when I first saw her on the Sci-Fi channel at the tender age of ten. I think she might very well be the reason why I first considered joining Star Fleet. To travel where no man has gone before, and meet exotic females like her? Where do I sign up?

Next, there was Princess Leia in _Return of the Jedi_, the succulent slave of Jabba the Hutt, that loathsome tub of lard. Oooh, baby! Could there possibly _be _a more enchanting slave girl? I wish _I_ could have rescued her, and secured her undying devotion. "Oh, Captain Tudgeman, what can I ever do to repay you?"

Yeah, sweetheart, I'll think of something….

But then…how about last week, when I discovered Marva, Trinvia and Lolopi, the nubile slave girls in this year's biggest movie, _Vesuvius, the Eruption_? Forget the Doublemint Twins, gentlemen! Prepare to triple your pleasure. Movies today, they just keep getting better and better, don't they? No more talking animals and cartoon elves for this guy, thank you very much!

But wait! There's more! Much more. Because this week….this week I have something even better. Not just a celluloid image to spark my adolescent fantasies, but an actual girl, and without a doubt, she is crazy in love with _La Tudge. _This week, Lizzie McGuire is within my grasp. My very own personal slave girl, and all I have to do is reach out and take her.

Oh yeah. She wants me. She's been shy till now, I suppose, perhaps nervous about how to approach me. After all, I _am_ brilliant, witty and debonair. I understand if I've made her nervous. But earlier this week in Health Class, when I was called up to give her mouth-to-mouth…well, let's just say this little exercise in first aid provided much in the way of information. Valuable data about Lizzie's true feelings for me.

Craft was not equal to the task of setting his lips upon the luscious Lizzie, but the Force was with me that day. Not only did Coach Kelly choose _me_, but my lips did not fail me, they were in top kissable condition (I'd been practicing on an orange, only the day before). And so…I leaned over the defenseless Ms. McGuire, and as I moved in close, I noticed how nervous and expectant she looked, waiting for my lips.

She squirmed a little, and the look in her eyes was one of utmost surprise. How did she get so lucky? Surely Fate had brought us together. And so I leaned over her, placing my open mouth upon hers, and immediately she began to moan. I felt the heat. I know I must have been too much for her, it must have been overwhelming for the poor girl. But at last, her fortress of shyness was demolished in one fell swoop.

She was kissing me back.

I know, I know. It seems incredible, doesn't it? Word around town is that Lizzie (and Miranda too, for that matter) have the hots for the aforementioned Craft. But he's just a poser. All hair, and no idea what to do when it comes to the ladies.

And this lady was clearly in need of some good kissing. And if not from Craft, then who? Gordon? Oh please! Don't make me laugh. He may have the distinct pleasure of getting to hang out with Lizzie (and Miranda) on a constant basis, but…but…_c'mon!_ The dude is totally clueless! He has no idea the goldmine he's sitting on. I mean, if that was _me, _constantly at Lizzie's side, getting to look into her lovely hazel eyes over lunch, hear the sweet lilt of her giggle beside my ear, feel the brush of her breasts against me as we walked side by side down the hall…

Where was I? Oh yeah, Gordon. He must be gay. Or a eunuch. Maybe his sex drive is going to kick in as soon as he gets _tall_ enough to ride the roller coasters at Disneyland. But I wouldn't hold my breath, Gordon. Lizzie will be mine long before that ever happens.

She's practically mine already. I can almost taste it…taste her. For the longest time I had only hoped, only dreamed, that Lizzie might someday be my playmate. I know she has always respected my intellect (who doesn't?) but for too long, she seemed to be missing out on my mojo. I guess it's been all that hanging out with Gordon, deadening her knowledge and appreciation of what a hot, sizzling babe she really is. He's been a very bad influence on her, holding her back from discovering her true potential. But I intend to put a stop to all that.

Soon…soon…

I'm not going to rush right in. I know Lizzie has been shocked by the sudden revelation of her feelings towards me. Evidently she has been keeping them bottled up, afraid to release the wild woman inside her. But when I kissed her that morning in Health Class, and she kissed me back, I could feel the temptress straining to break through. She's been so reserved for so long, I think it might take a little while for me to rouse the untamed lioness from her pubescent slumber. But that's okay. I want to give her all the time she needs. I long for that moment when Lizzie shall approach me, at last unashamed of her natural instincts, her natural attraction to _La Tudge_, and kneel at my feet, thanking me for releasing her from her self-imposed prison of sexual neutrality, and vowing to, from this day forth, serve me, and only me.

In the meantime, as I wait for her, there are Marva, Trinvia and Lolopi, the semi-clad slave girls of Vesuvius, to keep my mojo well oiled. I've seen the movie twelve times now, you know. I can't get enough of those slave girls! Every time I see them, I can't help imagining Lizzie as my own personal slave girl.

Now. I am a man of tremendous self-control, but last Tuesday, in the hallway, as I was discussing the movie with Trevor (my fellow Star Fleet officer), telling him that I thought _Vesuvius_ might be even better than _Star Wars_, I noticed the lovely Ms. McGuire standing only a few steps away from me, and I momentarily lost my self control.

"I've seen if four times," Trevor said, "and I still can't figure out how they do that thing with the lava."

I scoffed. "I'm not watching the lava," I shot back, keeping my eye on Lizzie, even as I returned my books to my locker. "I'm watching the slave girls."

Lizzie looked at me (the girl can't help herself), and then, boldly, I…sort of…growled at her. Not a nasty growl, but a guttural, primitive, "I want you," kind of growl. (I know, I know…where do I come up with this stuff, right?)

It was a daring move, but well worth it. Lizzie looked at me---directly at me!--- and for a moment she was…breathless. Overcome, taken away by my charms.

I didn't belabor the moment. I knew I must have been too much for her. I simply winked and walked away, giving her something to think about the rest of the day, and no doubt something to dream about later that night.

I'm sure that moment cemented in Lizzie's mind how very much I want her, and how very much she wants me. I've planted the seed, fertilized the soil, and now this sweet plum is ripe for the picking.

So…what shall I do next? How shall I draw my sweet love slave to me?

Over the next few days, I made my feelings and intentions known to her, by fixing her with my hypnotic gaze, both in the classroom and out. I know it doesn't sound like much, but I have a very strong mind. Sometimes, all I have to do is think about something, and it comes to me. It's a sort of superpower of mine. I don't need a Cosmic Cube to get me what I want. Ha! That's for amateurs.

On Friday, as I stared across the crowded lunchtime courtyard at my lovely one, huddled around a plastic table with the ever-present Gordo and Miranda, there came a singular moment when I sensed Lizzie picking up my signal. She raised her head, and looked around, no doubt thinking, "Who is sending such powerful mojo my way?"

And then her eyes met mine across the crowded courtyard. Once again, she appeared breathless, taken away. I smiled at her, winked, then slowly rose, shortening the distance between us with my best James Bond saunter. I kept my eye on the prize, and saw her suddenly and excitedly mouth the words, "Tudgeman is coming over here!" And now I was close enough to hear her panicky whisper, "What should I do? He's been _staring_ at me ever since that CPR class!"

Miranda turned around. I know she wants me too, but sorry, ladies, this stud is taken. I only have eyes for Lizzie. And as I approached, Lizzie looked up and gave me a nervous smile. "Uh…hi, Larry," she said shakily, when I had reached the side of their table.

"Hello, Lizzie," I returned pleasantly. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"

I thought I'd start slow. She was clearly already overwhelmed by my presence. I didn't want the poor girl to pass out before I had a chance to pop the question.

But before Lizzie could pull her mind together enough to respond to my gentle advances, Gordo turned in his seat and looked up at me, saying, "Okay, Tudge, would you explain something to us?"

"I see all, and know all," I replied, giving Lizzie another private wink. "What can I do for you, Mr. Gordon?"

"Well, this movie, _Vesuvius_---"

"Ahh!" I exclaimed. "Yes. I've seen it twelve times. I'm more or less an expert. Especially when it comes to the Vesuviun slave girls."

Lizzie (and Miranda's) gasp of admiration was drowned out by Gordo saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know all about that. But what we really want to know is how did you get your parents to let you go see an R rated movie?"

"Oh, that!" I scoffed. "No problemo, my little man. My parents of course understand how mature and intelligent I am. They have complete faith that I am fully capable of dealing with 'Adult situations, mild violence and brief nudity.'"

Too brief, if you ask me, I thought. But I didn't say it, out of respect for Lizzie's shyness around me.

"Great," Gordo said tonelessly, obviously not impressed, "but what I mean is, how do you actually get in? Do your parents take you? Do you have a fake ID? What?"

I laughed lightly. "Oh, Gordo, Gordo. A fake ID. That's a good one. Though, I suppose I _could_ have one. I look like I could be seventeen, don't you think, Lizzie?"

But at the moment, Lizzie could only stare at me with her mouth open.

Sensing her distress at being asked to display her fascination with me in public, I graciously took the pressure off the girl by saying, in a much quieter voice, "Well, I have this cousin, Vincent. He's eighteen. He _drives. _I hang out with him quite a bit. We go to movies together."

Gordo made a defeated noise. I looked at Lizzie. She giggled a little, nervously. "That's nice, Tudge," she said.

"You know what would be even nicer?" I said, instantly recognizing and seizing my opportunity. "If you would accompany me to the Wilco Movie Theatre for tomorrow evening's showing of _Vesuvius_."

"You mean 'us.'" Gordo qualified. "You mean accompany you and your cousin Vinnie."

"Vincent," I corrected. "Well…yeah."

All the while I had been looking directly at Lizzie, and I was still looking directly at Lizzie, of course, but the jealous Miranda immediately started babbling, "Oh no! We couldn't do that! I don't think that would work. Have an eighteen year old boy we don't know driving us to an R rated movie? That is just not going to fly with my parents, I can tell you that!"

"Mine might be okay with it," Gordo considered.

I didn't care about Gordo, or Miranda, or their parents! They had completely misunderstood! I wasn't asking _them. _ I was asking Lizzie. I took a step closer to her and in my deepest, most mature and sexy voice, said, "Lizzie?"

Lizzie stared at me, once again at a loss for words. "I…I…I…" was all she was able to get out.

I opened my mouth to calm her, to reassure her, but before I could get out a single word, the bell rang and Miranda bounced up, gathering her things and exclaiming, "Ha! Nope! I doubt the McGuires are going to go for that, right, Lizzie? Well, time for class, let's go, shall we? See you later, Tudge!"

Miranda (and to a lesser extent Gordo) whisked Lizzie away from me before I could get my answer. Jealous vixen, that Miranda!

The rest of that day, I did not have an opportunity to approach Lizzie again, and the next day, when Vincent came over for our traditional Saturday afternoon Halo competition, I relayed to him how very close I was to going out with the hottest girl in school

"She was this close, Vin---this close to saying yes to me!"

Vincent stuffed some potato chips in his mouth, then pushed his glasses up on his face. "Hot chick, huh?" he asked, working his controller with admirable expertise.

"Oh, ho, ho!" I laughed. "The hottest. This babe was _made_ to be a slave girl. _My_ slave girl."

Vincent snickered. "Yeah? Tell me about her."

So I spent the next hour describing Lizzie to my cousin, and I could tell he thought she was hot too, because every time I mentioned how perfect and round her breasts were, or how full and glossy her lips, or how tight her ass, he would slip up on the game, and eventually I ended up winning. That's how hot Lizzie McGuire is. Grown men falter at their video games upon the mere description of her.

Later in the evening, when we had shut off the game and were eating some "real food" at the insistence of my mother, we happened to chance upon the local evening news, and who do you think we saw! Lizzie! My Lizzie! Right there on the TV.

"Damn…" Vincent said in awe. "She _is_ hot. So's her friend. What's her name?"

"That's Miranda!" I exclaimed, jumping up. "But don't worry about Miranda! This is all about Lizzie! Do you see what she's done? She's saved some guy's life at the movie theatre! She used the stuff she learned in our Health Class to save some dumb guy's life!"

"Wow," Vincent said. "That's heavy!"

"Heavy!" I repeated, throwing myself down in a chair and catching my breath. "Do you realize what this means?"

"No, what?"

"Well, Lizzie and her friends were looking for some way to get in to see _Vesuvius._ I don't know how they did it, but if Lizzie had accepted my invitation the other day, we would be on our way to the movies _right now! _And if she and I were going to the movies now, she wouldn't have been there at the theatre this afternoon to save this guy's life! It's all Fate. It's Divine Providence. All her reluctance, all her shyness…it's served a greater purpose!"

"The Force has been with her," Vincent agreed with a solemn nod.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Yes!"

I sat back and took another deep breath. For a few moments, I could not speak, so overcome was I by the intricacies of the Universe.

"You know," I announced finally. "It kind of makes you think."

"Think what?" Vincent questioned.

"Well, doesn't it make you think that, perhapsjust perhapsthere might be more important things in this universe than really hot babes?"

We sat still for a moment, contemplating the question, and as we did, the news broadcast switched to the weather report. I saw Vincent's eyes magnetically drawn to the TV screen, and then mine followed.

"Oh look!" Vincent said. "It's Kelly Harris, that hot weatherlady!"

"Oh yeah!" I agreed, settling in beside him on the couch. "Hot, hot, hot! Steamin'! And look what she's wearing today! Oooh, Kelly!"

"Lookin' good!" Vincent agreed. "Hey, honey," he coaxed the TV screen, "will you be my Vesuviun slave girl?"

"Hey!" I cried indignantly, smacking him with a controller. "Kelly's mine!"

"No, she's not!" Vincent objected. "You've got Lizzie now. Don't get greedy, Lar!"

I nodded. Yeah, he was right. He could have Kelly. He could have Miranda. He could have them all. Lizzie was going to be _my_ slave girl.

I would wait for her.


End file.
